I subscribe to something called 'A sonnet a day' It sends a Shakespeare sonnet to my inbox each day. That way I have a whole day to spend living with each poem. They seem to me to soak in better that way, and having it bright and shiny in my inbox means that i do not have to look in my book.
The last two poems have been about sex. I mean, everyone knows he wrote about sex (The man wrote about everything after all,) But-- well, see for yourself.
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.![]()
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and
The last two poems have been about sex. I mean, everyone knows he wrote about sex (The man wrote about everything after all,) But-- well, see for yourself.
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
and
Posted: CXXVIII. How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st, Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand! To be so tickled, they would change their state And situation with those dancing chips, O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Making dead wood more blest than living lips. Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss. I stand, amazed. I had looked no further before than my own favorite, (you can guess, I bet, what that one is-- I gave it to Archie.) And I just came back to Shakespeare as a way of getting at Marlowe and Kyd. I assume much of their writing is lost, especially Kyd's. But really you can roll arround in this guy for a lifetime. (Picture me, a happy dog, with my feet in the air.) s |
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And of course he wrote about sex! That's what half his plays are about! Midsummer Night's Dream, say. Well, sex and love and how the two are related. Measure for Measure, on the other hand... well.
To subscribe just search online for: 'Shakespeare sonnet a day.' You should be able to find it.
And yeah. A lot of the sonnets are Really Smutty. Though for my money if you need a lewd sonnet, it's time to go straight to John Donne.
Three reasons. It is nautical. It is about faithful marriage, which in my head he and Horatio have. And it is a poem I lovelovelov, (first sonnet by WS that I got by heart.)
But now, I am finding Shakespeare is like a box of chocolates. You eat one and say 'that is my favorite,' and you eat another and you say 'No this one is my favorite,' and you gobble up a third one and you say...
I don't have to explain to you why I chose "When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes." You know the story. :)
and he and Horatio have -er - benefitted from the literary inspiration woven in and out of numerous fics from many people
Donne for poems with unbeatable erotic art I think indeed
Not only the best sonnets of sex but powerful sonnets of other kinds too
and anyone who can start a poem with the line
'At the round earth's imagin'd corners' gets my vote - although sadly in that particular holy sonnet the rest of it does not live up to the opening, at least for me.
Like your being ' as a happy dog with feet in the air '- reminds me of a piece of music that I will try and send if I can find it :)
Edited at 2013-01-16 08:32 pm (UTC)
He has this sort of whiney 'when do I get some' vibe for me.
You of course have used his work beautifully, nevertheless.
there is a whole discussion there but not for a comment column another day another fascinating chat - hopefully :)
Will S could whine too though - most of 34 is a whine - though it has the couplet that redeems it somewhat ( did I send RL reading that one in his best disgruntled neddy tones ?
Making dead wood more blest than living lips
Filth! Lovely, lovely filth :)
These are brilliant, and very, very too the point.
Apologies for brief fly by comment, busy bunny again this week.
I realized today that there is an H thing that I meant to include and somehow did not. H for Hospitals. My entire family would be dead many times over by now without them.
And in hospitals, nurses do the bulk of the work. Particularly in the ICU, where we have spent much time with Claire over the years.